


Three Ghosts.  Well, One Ghost.  Well, More Like Two People and A Bit Part For An Angry Spirit.

by knitmeapony



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitmeapony/pseuds/knitmeapony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Murph are a little bit stuck.  At least the Ghost of Christmas Past is on the *other* side of the doorway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Ghosts.  Well, One Ghost.  Well, More Like Two People and A Bit Part For An Angry Spirit.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allfireburns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfireburns/gifts).



"One of these days, Harry."

"... pow, straight to the moon?"

I gave Murph a weak little grin and stayed on _this_ side of the table, thank you very much.  Those boots of hers were steel-toed, and my shins were delicate creatures.

She sat down on the couch with a resigned air as I shrugged helplessly.

"You wanna run this one by me one more time?"

I took a breath and went to the fridge.  "Sure.  This time, with beer."  I rummaged in the fridge.  It’s a good thing I’d gone shopping two days ago -- there were still four whole bottles of beer and leftover pizza.  “So you remember the case with the missing kid?  The one you asked me to look into last week?”

She took the bottle I offered and popped it open with an easy motion. “Sure.  Cute kid. Eight year old girl, we figured her mom took her.  But there was something weird about the mom.”

“Weird, no.  Non-existant, yes.”  

Murphy took a drink from her beer without wincing, which was actually pretty impressive -- both considering the weirdness and the quality of the beer. "So how do you have a kid with no mother?  I don't think you mean she's dead."

"No.  And really, the kid wasn't a kid.  It was more like a manifestation."

Murphy leaned forward and I wove the whole sordid tale for her.  How the guy -- the dad -- who despite all jolly appearances to the contrary and had gotten in with criminal types and thusly had become a really crappy person.  About how being a really crappy person draws all kinds of other crappy people to you. And how those crappy people are sometimes fae with terrible senses of humor and even worse senses of justice.

You'd think giving the guy a kid would be bad enough.  I mean, I'm not against kids in general, but adorable ones that look like dolls and talk like adults are really kind of creepy -- uh, with all apologies to Ivy, anyway.

"So the kid was meant to teach him a lesson."

"Yeah, I think so.  She was supposed to give him a very special Christmas message and then poof!  Leave him with a couple of friends of hers.  But here's the problem."

See, I had this terrible habit.  This no good very bad habit of trying to help people out, even when they were terrible people.  And when I tried to help out terrible people, I really made a mess of things.  Like, for instance, accepting a significant payment to take on a Christmas curse for a guy who really didn't seem interested in getting into the spirit of things.

I mean, it was a tiny girl with shiny brown curls!  You'd think that'd be harmless, as curses go.  But, of course, I'm involved -- so harmless doesn't apply.

"It turns out it was a full-blown Ebenezer."

She narrowed her eyes.  "As in Scrooge?"

"Yeah.  Only the ghosts that you get sent for the real curse, those don't talk to you about giving geese to tiny orphans.  They're more in favor of picking you up by your lungs and shoving your face in a pile full of pain.  And then they show you the past, but really by then you're not breathing so you don't care."

"Nnng."

"Exactly.  So considering I'd rather not get eaten by my pets for Christmas, I warded up the place.  The kind of thing that can't be broken from the inside, but shatters as soon as something leaves."  It was pretty amazing, watching Murphy calculating, trying to decide if she really wanted to go for her gun or not.  She decided not and I relaxed, if only just a little.  "And, uh, you came over at just the wrong time, so now you're kind of stuck behind the wards with me."

"So now we have to defeat this ghost or actually suffer through watching Christmas Past." She sounded a little tired.

"And pain.  Lots of lung squeezing and pain."

"Right.  And this is only the first one of three?"

"I don't make the rules, Murph."

"No," she agreed.  "Just the trouble."

That... was fair.  I gave her a thin smile.  "There is one more thing we can do."

I nodded to the door, where an ethereal spirit had been clawing for the past hour, trying to get my wards down so it could punish the unrighteous.  "It should dissipate once it's not Christmas anymore."

"So we're stuck here."

"Yep.  All night.  Until dawn."

Murphy rubbed her forehead with the heel of her palm.

"So I am going to miss fresh turkey, and potatoes, and all that kind of stuff, and in exchange I get?"

".... leftover pizza and beer?  And hey, the pizza's deep-dish."

I expected her to chuck something at my head, I really did.  I was already half in the duck and cover position.  And then she laughed.

Yep.  _Laughed_.  It was a kind of a relieved sound, one I hadn't heard from Murph in ages.

"... you okay?"  She actually looked kind of... good, for a change.

"You know what else I'm missing, Dresden?  Guilt, drama, certain aunts drinking way too much and reliving painful childhood memories for me in front of my sister and her family."

Oh.  _Oh._   "Well.  I guess I'm kind of saving you, huh?"

"I guess so."  She grinned, just a little.  That explained the weird hour of her showing up -- she was probably dragging her feet, trying to avoid going to Certain Relatives Houses, and I was on the way.  I had to admit, I really dug being her distraction-at-arms.   Her aide-de-avoidance.  

"Does that mean my shins are safe?"

"Depends on two things."  She held up one finger on each hand, carefully.  "One.  Does that TV work this week?"

.... thank mercy that my Christmas present from Billy had been TV repairs, done by one of the Pack's favorite people.  "Yes.  Yes it does."

"Two."  She eyed me very carefully. "This is _extremely important_ , Harry."  Uh oh.  "Is there sausage on the pizza?"

"... it's _deep dish,"_ I said, affronted.  Of _course_ there was sausage.

"In that case, the three ghosts can stick it," she said, almost cheerfully, and she settled deeper into my couch.  Mister eyed her from the shelf above her head, looking almost approving at that one.  "Find something animated and feed me."

Hah.  I officially decided I won Christmas, and went to heat up the pizza.

"So hey, does this mean we get to open our presents in front of each other like actual normal goddamned people?"

"Oh, hey!"  She grinned at me and reached into her pocket for the gift I'd given her.  "That sounds almost Christmas-like."  She tugged at the ribbon and opened the box, revealing the talisman I'd made for her.  "... what does it do?"

"Read the box lid," I said with a grin.

" _Dear Murph: Happy Christmas.  Just for you, one remote smack on the back of the head.  All you have to do is break this in half, and no matter where I am, as long as I'm on earth an air spirit will whack me one, just for you._   Aw, Harry, it's just what I wanted."  She actually looked delighted, and tucked it away carefully as I brought her the pizza and another beer.  "Here, open yours."

It had a card, but I opened the box first, tearing away the paper like I was ten again.  "Junior... detective kit."  

She grinned at me and pointed.  "See, a badge, a magnifying glass, and they actually give you warrants, now.  So you don't run around _tainting evidence_."

"Hah hah, Murph."  I was smiling, though, and examined.  "Oh hey, I can send away for a real policeman's hat, too."

She bit into the pizza with gusto and shot a glance at the door where the ghost was making a fair attempt to rattle the crap out of the knob.  "Oh shut up, you," she yelled to it, and then pointed.  "Open the card."

I tore it open carefully and unfolded the paper inside.  _Harry: You know I don't normally do this, but once -- just once -- consider this a get-out-of-boot-free card.  You get your car back once -- ONCE -- no matter why you got the tickets or how mad I am at you for getting them.  Use it wisely.  Murphy._   Aw.  Damned thoughtful.  And useful, too, and it _almost_ made up for the detective kit.  Hmph.

I pointedly opened the box, took out the badge, and pinned it to the front of my shirt.  "There.  _Detective_ Dresden is on the case."  I grabbed the TV remote. "The case of the missing Claymation."  

Murph gave me a warm smile, and she actually let me stretch out my arm along the back of the sofa, almost around her.  It didn't take long to find the Island of Misfit Toys on one of the channels, and it'd only just barely started.  I picked up my beer and angled it towards her.  "Hey, Merry Christmas, Murph."

"Merry Christmas.  It's better with family, isn't it?"  She clinked her bottle against mine cheerily, and I swear to god I just got some dust in my eyes for a second there.

"Much."

And here's the funny thing -- after that I actually forgot that we were hiding from a terrible curse and some murderous spirits. I don't know if the ghost disappeared right then because of all the warm fuzzies and Christmas Spirit, or if it really did melt away at dawn.  But either way I spent my Christmas full of good pizza and bad beer, and mostly asleep on the couch, with Murph propped against me, drooling on my left shoulder.

Best.  Christmas.  Ever.


End file.
